


mistletoe and folly

by illea



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Multi, please just suspend your disbelief @ all of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illea/pseuds/illea
Summary: When Zagreus learns of a mortal tradition called Christmas, he insists on celebrating it in the House of Hades. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
Relationships: Achilles/Hades (Hades Video Game), Megaera/Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	mistletoe and folly

“Go on, Dusa,” Zagreus said, lifting her towards the tree. She stretched out, wobbling slightly before placing the star at the top. Zagreus cheered, returning Dusa and her reddening cheeks to a normal height. They stood back and admired the decorations that covered the tall tree.

“What do you think?” Dusa asked, gnawing her lip with a fang.

“I’m not sure,” Zagreus replied, scratching his head. “I’ve never actually seen a Christmas tree.”

The younger residents of the House of Hades were gathered in the lounge, a fire crackling in the hearth. The atmosphere down here was always warm—atmospherically, at least—but tonight it felt warm in a different way. At the request of Hades, Achilles was stationed partway between his usual post and the lounge to keep a watchful eye on both.

When Zagreus had suggested _Christmas_ , a mortal tradition he’d learned of while visiting his mother, there had been some doubt. But as they well knew, Zagreus was nothing if not persistent. It had begun with decorations, which slowly made their way around the whole house. Then his friends had joined in, and the drinks started flowing, and well, here they were.

It was nice, Achilles thought, for Zagreus to have a break. He looked much younger in the flickering light. They all seemed a bit looser—Thanatos and Megaera, too. All but Dusa, who was much the same as always. Zagreus curled up on the carpet across from Than and Meg while Dusa fluttered around, straightening garland and rearranging ornaments.

“I win,” Thanatos said smugly, looking down at a piece of paper as he sipped a thick drink—eggnog, Zagreus had called it. “Nine out of ten.”

“Written tests are stupid,” Meg scoffed, throwing her paper in the fire. “Especially about mortal traditions. I could best any of them on the battlefield.”

“At least you didn’t do as poorly as Zagreus,” Thanatos muttered. “Especially since this was his idea.”

Meg smirked and pushed a glass across the table, the wine that Dionysus had generously provided sloshing over the edge. Zag eyed it warily.

“Haven’t you ever had a Dionysus-induced hangover?” he asked. “If you had, you wouldn’t be making me do this.”

“Don’t be a weakling, Zagreus,” Meg drawled. “You lost fair and square.”

“I’ll get some water,” Dusa squeaked, scurrying towards the kitchen.

Zag picked up the glass of wine and chugged it, wincing. A flush came almost immediately to his cheeks. Meg clapped dryly and Thanatos hid a smirk.

“Well done, Your Highness,” Dusa encouraged, passing him a glass of water. Zag took a deep slug before waving her off.

“Sit down, Dusa! You’ve done more than enough tonight.”

“Okay!” she squeaked, drifting down to rest on a pillow. "Thank you, Prince."

“Of course,” Zagreus replied, waving his glass around haphazardly. “It’s an honour to have all my friends together to celebrate this mortal occasion.”

“Are we really your only friends?” Meg teased. Than sank deeper into his hood, too busy analyzing Zag's use of the word _friend._

Zagreus snapped his fingers in realization. “Achilles!”

In just a few steps, Achilles was at the door of the lounge. He didn't feel the need to tell them he'd been keeping a watchful eye, and instead offered up a bemused smile.

“Are you coming to join us?” Zagreus asked. "We have wine."

“I’m afraid I have other duties,” Achilles replied.

“Once Father has gone to bed?”

“That’s when he needs my guardianship the most."

Achilles knew Hades could hear them from his desk just a few feet away. He must've been eavesdropping, as he was quick to interrupt this admission of vulnerability.

“I’m going to retire,” he said, emerging from behind his desk and awkwardly approaching the lounge. “Please keep the festivities at a reasonable volume.”

“Yes, sir,” Thanatos said solemnly. Zag and Meg shared a look that Achilles would’ve laughed at if it weren’t at Than’s expense—or rather, the expense of his loyalty to Hades. Loyalty was a quality Achilles could never ridicule.

“I should’ve never allowed this silly gathering,” Hades muttered, his cloak swirling around him as he headed towards his bedroom.

“I think it’s good for him,” Achilles replied, following close behind. Usually this would’ve led to an argument, but Hades was uncharacteristically quiet. Perhaps he was listening to the faint and uncharacteristic giggling that followed them from the lounge.

Achilles shook his head as they snuck past Hypnos, long asleep on his chaise. Cerberus was curled up next to him, a puddle of drool collecting on the floor. In their earlier celebrations, the partygoers had sprinkled Hypnos with fake snow and decked him in red garland. Achilles thought it rather suited him.

As they reached the door to Hades’ bedroom, Achilles noticed something above his usual post that explained the earlier laughter. Those miscreants—he should've known they were up to something. Achilles considered ignoring it. It seemed as if Hades hadn’t noticed, despite his advantage in height. And yet—

“Master,” Achilles said hesitantly. Hades turned around, his shoulders tensing at the delay, to see Achilles gesturing towards the ceiling above them. “Mistletoe.”

“So?” Hades said gruffly. “Still thinking of your dear rival Aeneas?"

Achilles refused to rise to the bait. “When Zagreus was visiting his mother, he learned of a tradition. Ah—one from our friends in the North—”

“I value tradition,” Hades interjected, never one to be mistaken in his beliefs. “But I believe we have enough of our own. You would do best not to validate the ideas my son gets into his head, especially those from up there.”

Achilles shook his head, a low chuckle in his throat. “You’re both so stubborn.”

Hades sighed, the comparison wounding him despite its accuracy. “Fine. You may submit to me the parameters of this tradition and I will see if it can find a place here.”

“Well,” Achilles began, stepping in closer. Hades stood his ground, his stubbornness for once working in Achilles’ favour. “When two people find themselves under the mistletoe, they—”

The words refused to leave his throat. Before tonight, he might’ve reasoned that the days and months of gradual closeness between them had been nothing more than the side effect of an eternity trapped together. But if the others had noticed something more, even in all their youthful self-obsession—

Achilles stepped forward and pressed his lips to Hades’ as quickly as he could. It was brief and warm, almost overshadowed by the fluttering in his chest. Achilles pulled back and examined Hades’ face.

“Oh,” Hades said, his entire body stilling. “This—it’s a gesture of friendship?”

As Zagreus had explained it earlier—rather pointedly, Achilles now realized—it could be anything. A tryst between strangers. An excuse between friends. A moment between lovers.

Achilles didn’t know which they were, but he knew what he wanted. And for someone who hadn’t wanted anything in a long time, it felt worth setting aside foolish pretence.

Achilles stepped forward, slower this time, and threaded his hand into Hades’ hair. It was soft and thick, and he couldn’t help brushing his thumb through the strands. Achilles stepped forward again—a small one, now—and let his toes bump against Hades’ boots. He smelled of smoke and pine and petrichor, of endings and beginnings, of death and life.

“Not friendship, then,” Hades murmured, his eyes drifting down to Achilles’ mouth.

“No,” Achilles whispered. He closed the last few inches and pressed their mouths together, allowing himself to linger this time. Hades' lips were soft and warm and finally, thankfully, moving against his. He buried his other hand in Hades' hair and felt his wide hands grip his waist, pulling him closer.

“Would you cut it out already?” Hypnos interjected, his voice raspy with sleep. Achilles turned to find him propped up on an elbow, his mask over one eye. “Some of us are napping here.”

To everyone’s surprise, Hades laughed, a low rumble that Achilles had only heard a handful of times.

“I suppose these festivities turn us all into fools,” he mused, running a hand through his beard. His cheeks were still flushed.

“Then you’ll allow us to keep these traditions?” Achilles asked. A bought of laughter erupted from the lounge and he winced.

“I said fools, not heathens,” Hades replied. “Please tell Zagreus to be quiet and then return to your post.”

“I always do,” Achilles replied. Hades shook his head, a small smile on his face, and pulled Achilles in for one last kiss.

“We’re barely beneath the mistletoe anymore,” Achilles laughed.

“Then you’ll have to tell them to put some more up,” Hades replied. “ _Next year_.”

“Next year,” Achilles echoed. Hades opened the door and slipped into his room, disappearing into the darkness. It was perfect timing, as another round of raucous laughter filled the air. Achilles strode towards the lounge and found Zagreus giving an impassioned speech to his friends.

“One red eye and one green eye!” he slurred, pointing to each in turn. “If they saw me, they’d certainly think I was the god of Christmas.”

“I think they already have one of those,” Than muttered into his drink, but his expression was fond.

“I have a wreath on my head!” Zag continued. He pointed to this too, but in his drunken state, he couldn’t control his force and knocked it to the floor.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Zagreus,” Meg drawled. Her smile too was fond, and Achilles resisted a smile.

“Here,” Dusa said brightly, scrambling to pick up the wreath. She placed it back on Zag’s head, hissing in contentment.

“Thank you,” Zag said, sweeping into a low bow. “You are my most loyal companion.”

Meg and Than contested this statement so loudly that Achilles had to step into the lounge, waving his hands far more aggressively than was dignified.

“Be quiet or he’ll have all our heads,” Achilles scolded. Meg whispered something about _Achilles_ and _head_ that made them laugh all over again and he sighed. That wine of Dionysus’ really was something.

“Sleep now and you can celebrate Christmas again next year,” Achilles promised.

Zag perked up at this, clearly still drunk enough that he believed this to be the best night of his life. He stood up, stumbling over to Than and Meg, and curled up between them. Than immediately dropped his head onto Zag’s shoulder, a pleased smile on his face.

Zagreus would be sore for the next few days if he didn’t sleep in a real bed, Achilles thought. But some things were more important than practicality.

“I’ll go sleep somewhere else,” Dusa whispered nervously, her eyes flicking between their entwined forms and the doorway. Meg rolled her eyes and pulled Dusa gently into her side.

“Are you sure, Miss Meg?” Dusa fluttered, though she was already leaning into Meg’s warm skin. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“Ask again and I’ll throw you,” Meg replied, her threat punctuated by a yawn. As Zagreus began to snore, Achilles stepped out of the lounge and returned to his post by Hades’ door. He couldn’t help but reach up and stroke the mistletoe, the leaves soft between his fingers.

He knew things would be different tomorrow. Zagreus would continue his runs to the surface, learning more about mortals and his mother and the history of them all. Things would inevitably change. But tonight, there was warmth and magic and mistletoe. And for now, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i just want them to have nice things


End file.
